


Infernal Devices

by theorchardofbones



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birthday Sex, Established Relationship, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Mentioned Monster Fucking, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Trans!Prompto, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, cock sheath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchardofbones/pseuds/theorchardofbones
Summary: It starts out with looking at the Bad Behemoth website as a joke; Gladiolus can't say he's ever been into the whole monster-fucking thing, but with Prompto's birthday fast approaching, he decides it's a kink he's happy to indulge.Turns out the whole thing is a lot more fun than he ever would have thought, especially when it means he gets to spoil the birthday boy rotten...





	Infernal Devices

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short and silly fluffy one shot revolving around the boys buying a bunch of toys from Bad Behemoth with the best of intentions, only to balk a little at the, erm, _scale_ of them and wind up having romantic, schmaltzy sex instead.
> 
> That... did not happen.
> 
> Enjoy the gratuitous smut :3
> 
> (Also fjiofjjod;igjifdj I'm sorry about the title but coming up with one was _tough_ and I think it's pretty witty if you ask me)

‘I don’t know, Gladdy. Don’t you think it’s a little… big?’

It’s a monster — literally.  _ The Garula  _ is its epithet, and much like the beast for which it’s named, it’s  _ huge. _

Gladiolus had seen the way Prompto’s eyes had lit up when they’d first found the Bad Behemoth site, though, and even though he’d been a little weirded out by the whole monster-fucker thing in the beginning — ‘You wanna fuck the things we’re training you to kill?’ — he’s gotta admit it’s sexy as hell to see Prompto blush at the thought of squeezing all nine inches of it inside him.

‘Isn’t that the point?’ Gladiolus counters, with a chuckle.

They’re in bed together, lazing around on a Sunday morning with no place to be all day; Gladiolus sits propped up against the headboard with Prompto in his arms, where the blond holds the tablet in his lap. Gladiolus leans forward and seeks out Prompto’s cheek, brushing his lips against the heat of his skin.

Prompto’s quiet for a while, like he’s mulling it over. In the reflection on the screen, Gladiolus can see Prompto biting his lip, his eyes a little wide as they take in the length and girth of the toy.

They drop it for now, and Prompto tabs back to the homepage. He’s inspecting a little butt plug shaped like a tail that he calls  _ adorable _ when he gives a soft gasp and points to the rotating ads at the top of the site.

‘What is  _ that?’ _

He points, and Gladiolus follows his finger; it’s something straight out of a fantasy novel, all fire and brimstone, with a pearlescent paint job in red, gold and black. Prompto taps the link, and a splash screen fills the page — a video montage of flames consuming the screen, and from it emerging the god of fire, Ifrit.

Words curl across the video:  _ ‘New to Bad Behemoth — The Infernian! Can you handle the heat?’ _

When the video finishes, the page brings them to the listing for the toy. Here, it’s much easier to see how big the thing is. And it’s fucking  _ huge. _

‘Holy shit,’ Gladiolus mutters.

In his arms, Prompto’s awestruck.

‘Right?!’

Gladiolus can’t really say he’s surprised when his boyfriend scrolls down the page to learn more — and that’s when he spots a diagram of the dildo being used in various states. There’s one where it’s fitted into a harness, to be used like a strapon; Gladiolus isn’t ashamed to admit it gives him a little rush to imagine Prompto with it hanging low from his hips, ready to fuck him silly. Beside that is an image of the reverse of the toy, where there seems to be a hole in the back of it.

‘Is that like a… pocket pussy?’ Gladiolus asks, squinting at the screen.

‘It says it’s “wearable”,’ Prompto states. ‘Hold on, there’s a link.’

Prompto’s silent after he taps through, reading the description. Gladiolus tucks his chin into Prompto’s shoulder and amuses himself by slipping his hand up under Prompto’s shirt and tracing his fingertips up his side.

‘So…’ Prompto says, a little haltingly — he’s not wearing his glasses  _ again, _ so he’s probably having trouble reading the small print. ‘I guess you’d wear it on your dick? And like… use it to fuck me?’

Gladiolus is silent for a moment while he takes this information in. He can’t say he’s ever heard of anything like that before, but his escapades have been relatively toy-free over the years. It’s not like he’s small enough to warrant any help in that department — he recalls, fondly, the first time Prompto saw his dick up close and sputtered out a nervous laugh at the prospect of trying to take it all into his mouth.

‘Do people do that?’ Gladiolus asks uncertainly.

Prompto gives a bashful little giggle. That’s when Gladiolus  _ knows _ he’s thinking about it; imagining Gladiolus wearing it over himself, turning his already impressive girth into something mythical.

‘I  _ guess,’ _ Prompto murmurs.

He’s trying to act like he’s not excited by the thought, Gladiolus can tell, but he’s doing a  _ terrible _ job of it.

* * *

They don’t talk about it again — Prompto seems a little embarrassed in retrospect, and Gladiolus isn’t about to push him past his comfort zone.

That doesn’t mean he can’t do a little research of his own, though, and research it he most certainly  _ does; _ turns out there’s lots of things in the world of marital aids that he never would’ve considered so popular, or even possible.

The more he thinks about it, the more he keeps coming back to it. It’s dumb curiosity, at first: a sort of morbid fascination with something totally foreign to him. After a while, he realises it’s all kind of a turn-on. They’ve done stuff before, with Prompto’s fingers and tongue, but they’ve never brought toys into the equation where Gladiolus is concerned. Still, the strapons keep catching his eye, but more and more he keeps coming back to that gods-damned sheath.

Even when he’s actively trying  _ not _ to think about it, it’s on his mind; he’s wondering if Prompto could take something so big in the middle of a council meeting one day, trying to figure out the measurements while grocery shopping the next.

Prompto’s birthday’s coming up. Course, Gladiolus already has stuff lined up for it — and there’s the surprise party Noct and Ignis helped him plan — but if he  _ really _ wants to make it special, maybe this is the way.

He hits up the Bad Behemoth site one of the rare nights that Prompto doesn’t sleep over, scrolling through the different toys and idly adding them to his basket. They’re pretty pricey, but it’s worth it, he figures.

By the end of it he has the strapon version of a dildo shaped like a tentacle — he thinks Prompto’ll get a kick out of the sparkle-infused pastel blue hue — and a wearable version of the _ Infernian. _ The advance reviews on the site say that it runs a little big, so he hesitates for a while on choosing between the medium and the large. In the end, he decides that Prompto can handle it and adds the large.

* * *

‘Surprise!’

It’s a wonder, for somebody who spends so much time at Gladiolus’s place, or hanging with Noct at the apartment they share, that Prompto had somehow genuinely managed to miss all of their planning. Gladiolus might never have believed his boyfriend hadn’t heard  _ something _ that piqued his curiosity if it weren’t for the look of pure astonishment on his face.

Gladiolus slips an arm around him, squeezing him close; nestles his face into Prompto’s hair and murmurs in his ear.

‘Happy birthday, babe,’ he says. ‘I’ve got my own surprise for you, too.  _ Later.’ _

He gets a kick out of seeing the heat rush to Prompto’s cheeks, turning his pale skin a pretty pink. Gets even more of a kick out of it when Prompto moves off to mingle with friends and keeps shooting shy little looks across the room, like he knows what’s waiting for him.

* * *

Prompto might have known but he couldn’t have truly anticipated it, Gladiolus thinks, as the blond removes the wrapping tissue from the first of his gifts and gives a genuine gasp of pleasure. Gladiolus picked the tentacle strapon to give him to begin with —  _ The Mindflayer —  _ and seeing Prompto pick it up, inspecting the diminutive dildo first, then the harness that comes with it, is a wonder to behold.

‘Oh my  _ gods, _ Gladdy,’ Prompto whispers. There’s something close to reverence in his voice, like he’s bearing witness to something holier than holy. It’s kind of adorable.

‘Open the next one,’ Gladiolus urges, nudging him gently with an elbow.

Prompto picks up the second box — Gladiolus notes, with a curious little rush, that this one’s so heavy the blond struggles with the unexpected weight of it — and sets it down in front of himself, eagerly tearing at the gift wrap.

He doesn’t seem surprised by the Bad Behemoth logo on the top of the box this time, although as he yanks the lid off and pulls the tissue off, his eyes go wide as saucers once he takes in the sight before him.

_ The Infernian _ is even bigger in person: eleven inches long, three inches thick, and glistening obscenely in the light of the lamp on the nightstand.

_ ‘Oh,’ _ Prompto whispers.

Gladiolus laughs and slings an arm around him. He’s gotta admit, even  _ he’s _ a little intimidated by the damned thing. He’s just glad he’s not the one who’s going to be fucked by it.

‘So whaddoya think?’ he asks.

Prompto inspects the toy — all but  _ scrutinises _ it. When he picks it up, he spends a good while turning it this way and that to see the way it catches the light, before turning to Gladiolus with a mischievous grin on his lips.

He holds it up like some legendary sword out of a fantasy movie then, completely earnest, lifts a hand to the tip of it, pulling it back and suddenly releasing it so that it bounces violently — so violently, in fact, it flies out of his grasp and lands on the bed, startling an ‘Oh!’ of surprise from his lips.

‘Dork,’ Gladiolus mutters wryly, picking it up and returning it to its box as Prompto dissolves into giggles.

The next box is less impressive — just an assorted collection of supplies like lube, and a little tonberry plush that has Prompto grinning with delight when his eyes land on it.

‘You’re the best,’ Prompto announces, flinging his arms around Gladiolus’s neck. ‘I’m calling Noct  _ right now _ and telling him my boyfriend’s the best.’

Gladiolus snorts and brings up a hand to ruffle Prompto’s hair.

‘Cool your jets, blondie,’ he laughs. ‘Somethin’ tells me the princess heard enough about our sex life the last time you went blabbing to him.’

There really is something pleasing about seeing Prompto blush, and  _ maybe _ Gladiolus has to admit he teases him sometimes just to see it. At the end of the day, he’s not sure anybody could blame him for it — Prompto’s just too damn  _ precious. _

‘So,’ Prompto says abruptly, turning to Gladiolus. ‘The blue one — that’s…?’

Gladiolus nods.

‘For you, yeah,’ he replies. ‘I mean — for you to use. On me.’

He realises  _ he’s _ getting a little flustered so he clears his throat gruffly and busies himself with the little leaflet that came with the shipment, listing the other product lines the company stocks, along with details about the premier membership club they offer.

He doesn’t realise Prompto’s gone quiet right away, not until he feels the teasing brush of fingertips up his spine. With a soft sigh of pleasure, Gladiolus turns and smirks at Prompto, touching his thumb to the blond’s chin.

‘Happy birthday,’ he says. ‘I hope you had fun.’

Prompto’s chewing his lip in that way of his, like he’s doing it to be demure on purpose — only Gladiolus knows better. With Prompto, that bashfulness is one hundred percent genuine, and it only makes it sexier.

‘I mean,’ Prompto says, coyly, lifting his shoulders in an innocent shrug. ‘Today’s  _ technically _ not over for another hour.’

Gladiolus feels the corner of his mouth twitch upward, almost of its own accord, into a knowing smirk. So Prompto might be beating around the proverbial bush, but it’s not like he needs to spell it out — he’s got that glint in his eye, and it’s enough to send a tug of arousal down low into Gladiolus’s belly.

‘What’d you have in mind, babe?’

Prompto’s biting his lip again, looking over the assortment of toys spread out over the bed. He reaches out with the most hesitant of touches, running his fingertips feather-light over the little blue strapon before picking it up. It’s small enough that it closes almost entirely within his palm — Gladiolus is all for experimenting, but he hadn’t been  _ entirely _ confident in his own abilities, so he’d picked out the smallest they offered — and something about his grasp makes the tentacle, with its little suckers and tapered end, look cute as hell.

‘You wanna try that?’ Gladiolus asks, wetting his lips.

There’s equal parts excitement and apprehension at the thought of Prompto taking him with that thing; small though it may be, they’ve never done  _ that _ before, even though they’ve obviously talked about it. Picturing Prompto with it lashed around his hips, standing proud, gives Gladiolus’s cock a little tug of desire.

It’s almost disappointing, then, when Prompto sets it down with a timid shake of his head.

‘No,’ he says. ‘Not just yet, anyways.’

It’s not an outright refusal, at least, and it catches Gladiolus off guard to realise how disappointed he’d been at the thought they mightn’t get to use it tonight. He’d picked it out mostly for  _ Prompto’s _ enjoyment; he hadn’t realised how much he was looking forward to trying it out, too.

Prompto pushes himself up onto his knees, and wordlessly slips his t-shirt off to reveal his slender frame beneath. He does it quickly, shyly, with no intention of teasing — but as more of him is revealed, Gladiolus feels his mouth go dry in that way it always does, like he’s seeing Prompto for the very first time.

He’s learned not to stare at the scars on his chest — they’re just a part of Prompto’s skin, to him, but he knows his boyfriend’s self-conscious — and fixates instead on the angular slope of his collarbone, on the rose petal pink of his nipples. He tracks down over the toned muscle of Prompto’s stomach, down to the trail of pale blonde curls leading like a beacon into the band of his undies, and when Prompto tugs idly at the elastic and slips his hand underneath, Gladiolus feels his throat involuntarily swallow.

If he could never fuck Prompto again — could never touch, or be touched by him — he’d be content to watch his boyfriend come undone beneath his own fingertips. Prompto knows what he likes best, after all, and if there’s one thing Gladiolus loves, it’s seeing Prompto come apart.

Gladiolus sprawls back on the bed, careful not to knock any of the boxes off, and lets his hand rest idly on the bulge of him through his boxer-briefs. He can feel himself twitch, and he’s not sure whether it’s from the contact or the sight of Prompto touching himself, shyly looking away like he  _ still _ hasn’t figured out just how hot this is.

Gladiolus palms himself, glides his hand downwards and cups it around his balls, licks his lips as he watches Prompto slip his hand up to his mouth wet his fingers. Gladiolus can imagine the taste of him, the slight musk of him, and it’s thoughts of nestling his face between Prompto’s thighs that bring him to full hardness.

Prom’s hand’s down his briefs again, and Gladiolus can see the shape of his fingers moving between his folds, getting himself slick.

‘You’re beautiful, babe,’ Gladiolus murmurs, lifting his glance to Prompto’s face. He has just enough time to see the flash of lust in Prompto’s eyes before the blond hurriedly looks away.

It started out like this — the little thing they had, that escalated almost without them knowing it. Back then they were two bros jerking off together, after some joking banter about how they were the only two people they knew who could do that without it being weird. But then… Well. It got weird.

Not bad-weird, though. Twice more they’d done it, and then on the third Prompto had reached over and covered Gladiolus’s hand with his own, guiding it shyly up and down his cock.

He twitches now as he remembers it — remembers the coy little look Prompto’d worn on his face, the way his skin had burned brightly with heat and arousal and self-consciousness. It’s a wonder really, looking back, that they hadn’t figured things out sooner.

Prompto’s mouth is slack now, his head tilted slightly to the side, and Gladiolus bets that he’s already wet. As he grinds the heel of his hand down into himself, already anticipating burying himself between Prompto’s thighs, he sees Prompto pull his hand out and grip the band of his briefs, edging them carefully down his hips.

It takes everything Gladiolus has got to dial in the eagerness, to keep from springing up and tearing his own underwear off. For now, he lazily strokes his palm over himself and watches as Prompto sheds his undies and takes to touching himself once more, this time parting his legs to give Gladiolus a better view.

He’s definitely wet now, no doubt about it; Gladiolus can see the slickness where it rolls down the inside of Prompto’s thigh, just begging to be licked clean.

‘Already that turned on, huh?’ Gladiolus asks, impressed.

Prompto bites his lip so hard it leaves a tiny indentation when he lets go.

‘I was thinking about you during the party,’ he says. ‘It was hard to keep my hands off of you in front of everybody.’

Lust pangs through Gladiolus, so sudden it almost  _ hurts. _

‘Shit, Prom,’ he growls. ‘If I’d realised what you were thinkin’, woulda sent everybody home.’

Prompto scoffs — probably thinks the words are white lies, meant to boost his ego — but the sound cuts off as Gladiolus thumbs the band of his boxer-briefs and stretches it down until his cock springs free.

Prompto’s eyes are fixed on it, eyeing up the length of it as he touches himself. A strand of wetness dangles from him, tantalising, and Gladiolus can imagine the taste of it on his tongue so clearly he can’t help but give a groan.

‘You gonna tease me all night?’ he asks, his voice hoarse.

Prompto grins — seems he’s starting to get into that headspace where he trusts that Gladiolus finds him attractive, at least — and gives a playful shrug.

‘It’s  _ my _ birthday, right?’ he says. ‘I get to do what I want.’

Gladiolus flicks a glance toward the clock on the nightstand, only long enough to check the time before hurriedly bringing it back to Prompto.

‘You got less than an hour,’ he retorts. ‘Use it wisely.’

That seems to light a fire under Prompto, at least; he perks up and curls his lips thoughtfully, eyeing up the spread of toys across the bed.

Gladiolus’s cock throbs traitorously — gives a very visible  _ twitch _ — when Prompto’s hand moves toward the little strapon. When Prompto’s eyes lift to meet his, he tries not to look too eager. He must’ve failed, because Prompto gives a little smirk and moves on from it, grabbing the  _ Infernian _ instead.

Now that Prompto isn’t kidding around any more, Gladiolus can take the time to admire just how monstrous the toy is with Prompto’s slender fingers clutched around it. Gladiolus isn’t into the whole monster-fucking shtick, but even he’ll admit the sight of Prompto holding that thing, almost struggling with the heft of it, is more than enough to get him going.

Gladiolus sits up in anticipation, expecting Prompto to slip it over him and give that whole  _ sheath _ deal a whirl, but instead he straightens up where he kneels and edges his thighs apart, slipping the  _ Infernian _ down between his legs.

For a minute, as Prompto lines it up against his entrance, Gladiolus worries it won’t fit. Prompto’s a tough guy, more than capable of looking after himself, but he’s still slight of frame — in fact, Gladiolus is  _ positive _ that Prompto won’t be able to get it all in, but he’s content to watch the blond try.

Prompto licks his lips, and he shuts his eyes in concentration as he holds the toy in place and lowers himself down onto it. Gladiolus is still sure he won’t get very far, but Prompto’s always been one to defy all the odds; sure as day, he eases it into himself, bit by bit, his breath huffing out all shallow as he goes.

‘Holy  _ fuck,’ _ Gladiolus breathes, and it’s only now that Prompto can’t quite seem to keep a poker face as he lets out a sweet little whimper.

The sight of him with that colossal thing buried partway into him, disappearing steadily within, is more than Gladiolus can bear; he shoves his hand downwards and grips his dick, the head of it already slick with precum, and guides his fist hurriedly over it.

He doesn’t want to come like this, spilling over his own fingers, but damned if he won’t  _ die _ if he doesn’t get some relief.

‘You look so good like that,’ he says, his voice thick. ‘Keep goin’ babe.’

Another whimper from Prompto, and another inch disappears — Gladiolus’s head swims, dizzy with lust at the sight of his baby like this.

_ ‘Gods,’ _ Prompto breathes, so soft it might be a prayer, might not even be for Gladiolus’s ears.

Another inch and Prompto’s panting freely, his mouth falling open. He’s shaking now, like it’s all a little more than he can handle, and he stops suddenly, bracing one hand on his thigh and knotting the other through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

It’s a lewd scene — something out of the dirty mags Gladiolus used to favour in his teens — but all he can think is how  _ beautiful _ Prompto is like this, already losing control.

Prompto huffs out a breath, then straightens himself up. He’s got a bashful look of resolve on his face, like he’s pleased that he can put on such a show; Gladiolus wants nothing better than to move over and kiss him, but he lets Prompto hold onto the reins for the time being.

Gripping the sheath, Prompto eases it back out of himself. It doesn’t seem the simplest of tasks — the toy is slightly on the soft side, presumably to facilitate using it as a sheath, and without that rigidity he seems to be having trouble using it like he wants to.

‘I can help, you know,’ Gladiolus says, almost carelessly, training his eyes on the head of his dick where precum beads at the slit under his touch. ‘All you gotta do is ask.’

Prompto laughs, the sound uncharacteristically husky. When Gladiolus looks up again he seems to have found a method that works, holding the toy near where it’s buried within him and using his other hand at the base to guide it.

His determination is as endearing as it is hot, Gladiolus thinks, giving the head of his cock a squeeze before smoothing his hand back down. It feels good, of course, but it’s even better to think of  _ himself _ burrowed into Prompto, with the sheath or without.

‘I’m good,’ Prompto says, with a reasonable facsimile of carelessness. There’s a haziness to his voice, though, and his lips are plump with arousal, his cheeks two red apples of heat.

Gladiolus watches, languidly stroking himself, as Prompto works the toy in and out of himself. From where he sits, he can see Prom’s wetness glistening around the girth of the thing whenever he pulls it out; it’s so fucking  _ hot _ he almost can’t stand it.

Eventually Prompto lowers himself into a squat, the toy wedged between him and the mattress. For a little while Gladiolus eyes him up curiously as he settles into a comfortable position; he sees Prompto begin to grind his hips, using the bed for traction, and now that the blond’s hands are free he can use them to touch himself — which he does, his efforts drawing a choked sound of pleasure as he strokes his clit where it’s swollen with arousal.

‘Six,’ Gladiolus blurts. ‘You’re too good, babe.’

Prompto rewards him with a little look in that shy way of his, like he’s starting to feel good in his skin, and  _ that’s _ almost too much — as Gladiolus watches him tilt his head, looking up at him under his blond bangs entirely without guile, his hand picks up its pace almost of its own volition.

‘You like this?’ Prompto asks, softly.

He licks his lips and pushes his hips forward a little, showing off the protrusion of them underneath his pale skin. With the hand not currently delved between his folds, he smooths his palm up the flat plane of his stomach, over the muscles of his abdomen, carefully avoiding the symmetrical scars to arrive at his pecs. Once there, he pinches his nipple between thumb and forefinger and twists, his eyes squeezing shut as a low, needy moan slips between his lips.

It’s the best kind of show, Gladiolus decides — all of Prompto’s self-consciousness seems to melt away as the pleasure takes over. He loves Prompto even when he’s filled with self-doubt, of course, but it’s in the rare moments like this where Prompto feels like he can really let go that he seems to shine.

It’s too much for Gladiolus to take any more, and he clambers onto his knees, moving close to Prompto and slinging an arm around his waist. Prom’s skin is clammy, hot to the touch; his lips are ready and willing as Gladiolus meets them with his own.

As Gladiolus slips his tongue into Prompto’s mouth, he uses his arm to lift Prom up and slips his free hand down between his legs to where the toy is buried within him. Gripping his hand around it — even Gladiolus, with his broad hands, has trouble fitting his fingers entirely around it — he begins to work it slowly in and out of his lover.

Even with more muscle than most guys his age, Prompto’s still so easy to pick up — and to throw around, when the mood strikes them — so it’s easy enough to hold him aloft, like a pretty porcelain doll.

He’s still touching himself, his other arm slipping around Gladiolus’s neck to hold himself in place. From his mouth, where their tongues lave against one another, a quivering, wanton sound of need rings out.

Gladiolus breaks from the kiss; hungrily hunts out Prompto’s glance until he opens his eyes, his pupils blown so wide there’s almost no blue visible around the black.

‘You like this, babe?’ Gladiolus growls.

Prompto nods hurriedly.

Gladiolus grins and wets his lips.

‘You wanna keep goin’,’ he asks, ‘or you gonna let me fuck you now?’

Prompto’s eyes squeeze shut, and Gladiolus feels the blond tense in his arms as a wave of pleasure washes over him.

‘Want you to fuck me,’ he whimpers. ‘Please, Gladdy…’

Gladiolus doesn’t need to be asked twice — he lays Prompto out on his back and takes a minute to shove all the boxes and tissue wrapping out of the way before pushing Prompto’s legs apart.

It’s not until he’s carefully, gently easing the toy out of Prompto that he realises just how much of it the blond managed to take in. As each inch is revealed, Gladiolus feels desire coil up within him, spurred by the knowledge he’ll be thrust just as deeply within.

Prompto gasps as the last part comes out — the head of it is thicker, so it takes a little work — and Gladiolus wastes no time in moving to sheath himself. He takes a moment first to stroke his hand from the tip of his cock to the base, getting it slick with precum, before easing the toy over his length.

It’s a tight squeeze, admittedly, and for a disappointing moment Gladiolus wishes he’d thought to check whether the damned thing would even fit on him when he picked it out. There’s some give to the silicone, however, and he manages to get it all the way on, huffing with the effort it takes not to come just from the tightness of it around him. Gladiolus realises, dizzily, that it’s warm — warm, from Prompto’s body — and he can’t help but give a soft grunt of pleasure as he eases it down to the base of his shaft.

He doesn’t realise until after the fact that Prompto had been watching him with great interest all the while; the blond’s touching himself pretty urgently, his thighs twitching as he goes, and when Prompto lifts his glance it’s with a look so sultry Gladiolus can’t be too sure he won’t just blow right here and now.

He reins it in though, somehow, and after taking a few heady moments to make sure he’s good to go, he lowers himself between Prompto’s thighs and braces himself over his lover.

‘How does it feel?’ Prompto asks in a whisper, his eyes wide with interest.

It’s cute enough that Gladiolus can’t contain a chuckle. He leans forward and kisses Prompto once, quickly, before propping himself up again.

‘Kinda weird?’ he says. ‘But… good, I guess. Tight. Had to try not to come when I was putting it on.’

Prompto gasps — Gladiolus’d think it was for effect, but the look of surprise in his big blue eyes is genuine enough.

‘Whoa,’ he murmurs.

Gladiolus grins and moves his hand down to Prompto’s hip, bracing it to the side — spreading him open wide as he edges forward and presses the tip of the sheath to his entrance.

‘Figure it’ll feel even better to fuck you with it,’ he says.

He knows Prompto could take it rough and ready — has quite happily been left sore for days after some of their more enthusiastic lovemaking — but Gladiolus is gentle this time as he guides his hips forward, stopping as the head of the  _ Infernian _ is just barely in to make sure Prom’s doing okay.

‘You want me to keep goin’?’ he asks.

Prompto hardly waits for him to finish before giving a frantic, pleading nod.

It seems like easier going, Gladiolus thinks, to get the toy in with the mass of his cock to keep it rigid. He’s still very much aware of it wrapped like a second skin around him, but he’s more focused on Prompto, specifically Prompto’s  _ expression, _ as he uses his hips to guide himself in.

It’s a beautiful thing, watching Prompto up close as his brow creases slightly with the effort of it all; even more beautiful as Gladiolus finally drives all the way home and meets Prom’s hips, forcing a little grunt of exertion, of pleasure, from the blond.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ Gladiolus murmurs, touching his lips to Prompto’s before propping himself up once more, the better to ease his hips backward again.

He can see Prompto’s hand trembling as he brings it down between his legs, as he dips his fingertips into the wetness where the toy is buried within. The movement draws Gladiolus’s glance downwards, and for the first time he gets to see just how  _ good _ he looks inside Prompto like this, stretching him wide with the glistening red, black and gold of the toy.

And Prompto  _ is _ stretched, pretty godsdamn far, as Gladiolus can see when he pulls slowly back out. On a whim he quickly moves a hand to Prompto’s thigh and hefts it up and to the side, and once he pulls all the way out — again, there’s a delicious gasp from Prompto as it pops free — he can see the way the blond’s entrance gapes open after it.

_ ‘Fuck,’ _ Gladiolus breathes.

It’s not long before he’s lining up with Prompto’s hips again, thrusting all the way in with a little more haste this time, but once more he eases back out and pulls free, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of Prompto spread like that.

The thought crosses his mind — briefly, guiltily — that Prompto could probably take a  _ lot _ more than they’ve ever tried. A fist; maybe even a second cock. Gladiolus feels a curious pang of arousal at the image of bringing in some other guy to help stretch Prompto wide around the girth of them both, but he’s soon pushing the thought from his head as he thrusts in again.

‘Yes, Gladdy, _ yes,’ _ Prompto moans, his fingers rolling eagerly over his clit. His skin shines with sweat, his chest heaving; when Gladiolus eases back out and thrusts again in one smooth motion, his head tips to the side and his mouth falls open in a little O of pleasure.

‘You want me to go faster, babe?’ Gladiolus asks.

A sound burrows its way up from Prompto’s throat, half-whimper and half-groan. It’s no word in any dialect Gladiolus knows, but it’s pretty clearly supposed to mean  _ Yes. _

He gives his baby what he wants — uses his grip on Prompto’s thigh, sweat-slick but sure, to brace himself as he picks up the pace. He’s worried things won’t be quite as smooth as they are when they’re fucking without the toy between them, but Prompto’s wet enough that it doesn’t seem to be an issue; there’s an obscene, sloppy sound coming from between them with each thrust, with the motion of Prompto hurriedly touching himself, and Gladiolus thinks it’s better than any of the extensive collection of porn he’s seen over the years.

‘Close,’ Prompto whimpers. ‘Please don’t — please don’t stop.’

It’s not like Prompto to be so vocal; his orgasms are usually a relatively restrained affair, with little more than gasps and moans of pleasure escaping his lips, so to hear him speaking so freely and wantonly tells Gladiolus it  _ must _ be pretty damn good.

For all Gladiolus’s worry about coming prematurely before, he finds the tight confines of the toys to be a boon  _ in media res. _ The silicone is thick enough that he can’t exactly feel Prompto through it — it’s a shame, really, but this is more about Prompto’s pleasure than his own — and the pressure is enough that he thinks he can hold out pretty well as he picks up his thrusts, slamming faster and harder into Prompto now.

He’s not sure he’d be able to hold out ordinarily, not when Prompto’s nose begins to crinkle in that way that says he really  _ is _ close; Gladiolus takes the cue and pushes himself up onto his haunches, gripping Prompto’s thighs now with both hands to spread them wide as he fucks roughly into him.

The noises coming from Prompto’s lips are as lascivious as the slick sounds between his thighs, and Gladiolus relishes the show as he drives home again and again, willing Prompto to come with the force of his thrusts.

‘I’m gonna—’ Prompto’s voice reaches a shrill pitch, his self-restraint a distant memory ‘—I’m gonna come, Gladdy, I’m gonna come, please don’t stop, please don’t—’

When he hits that crest, his voice cuts off in a high-pitched shout and his hips buck, his head throwing back to expose his throat as he rides out his climax with a series of strangled moans.

For all the wild sex they’ve had, for all the times they’ve played at holding out as long as they can to prolong the fun, Gladiolus doesn’t  _ ever _ think he’s seen Prompto so lost in the throes of pleasure. Certainly it’s the longest climax Prompto ever seems to have had, and even when Gladiolus thinks he  _ must _ be done, the blond’s still twitching involuntarily as the aftershocks roll through him.

When Prompto falls still at last, it’s like the whole world has juddered to a halt; they stay there in the aftermath, silent but for the intertwined sounds of their laboured breathing.

Prompto breaks the silence first — opens his eyes wide and looks at Gladiolus, cheeks flushed a deep red.

‘Holy  _ fuck,’ _ he blurts. ‘That was…’

‘Intense?’ Gladiolus supplies. ‘Looked that way.’

He gives a low chuckle and leans in, mouthing against Prompto’s neck. He takes in the salt of his sweat, the sweet taste of his skin beneath, and sucks gently until he hears a soft gasp from Prompto’s lips.

‘You’re gonna leave a mark,’ Prompto whines, not that he sounds bothered by the fact.

Once Gladiolus is done — he left a little bruise this time, low enough to be covered by Prompto’s collar — he sits up and diligently eases himself out of Prompto, taking care not to hurt him now that he’s so sensitive in the aftermath.

It takes some maneuvering to get the sheath off, and admittedly it’s a little uncomfortable — not that Gladiolus wouldn’t gladly do it all again. Once the toy is halfway off, Prompto jolts to alertness suddenly, his hand grasping Gladiolus’s wrist.

‘Wait,’ he says. ‘You didn’t—’

Gladiolus cuts him off with a shake of his head.

‘Didn’t want to,’ he says. ‘Not with this.’

Once he has the sheath off, he sets it aside and eyes up the boxes where they’ve been pushed aside haphazardly. He reaches for the one with the strapon and dangles it by the harness for Prompto to see.

‘You wanna give this a whirl, birthday boy?’

He sees Prompto’s eyes dart toward the nightstand, where the clock sits; his lips twist into a pout.

‘It’s not my birthday any more,’ he says.

Gladiolus snorts.

‘I think we can keep the fun going a little while longer,’ he replies. ‘If you’re game.’

For a moment, it seems all Prompto’s capable of doing in the wake of such an intense orgasm is lying there in recovery, so Gladiolus takes the opportunity to get everything ready. While he waits for Prompto he heads for the bathroom adjoining his room to freshen up a little; when he gets back, Prompto’s got the harness in hand, turning the toy this way and that as he inspects it.

‘It’s cute,’ Prompto says, grinning.

Gladiolus smirks.

‘Figured you’d like it.’

He helps Prompto strap the toy into place — this proves to take longer than strictly necessary, since they each keep getting distracted by the urge to kiss each other. Once it’s mostly in place, Prompto slings his arms around Gladiolus’s neck and pulls him into a deep kiss, and when the toy prods Gladiolus in the hip they break apart with a chorus of laughter.

As birthday sex goes, this is as good as Gladiolus had hoped it would be — seeing Prompto come undone and seeing him smile with such unrestrained joy, all in one night, is more than he could ever ask for.

Gladiolus leans over to grab the lube and he works it over the strapon while Prompto strokes him back to hardness, and once they’re done Prompto looks up at him with a bright, expectant look in his eyes.

‘You ready, big guy?’

Gladiolus wets his lips. He can count on both hands the times Prompto’s been knuckle-deep within him, and there have been more than enough rimjobs for Gladiolus to count the act up there as a favourite, but they’ve never tried anything like this before.

After a pause, he gives a nod.

It’s Prompto’s turn to take charge, at least for a little while, and he touches a hand to Gladiolus’s hip and nudges for him to turn around. Once Gladiolus has crawled up the bed, resting on all fours facing the headboard, he feels Prompto rest a hand gently on his ass.

His cock twitches insanely in anticipation — he hadn’t realised how godsdamned much he was looking forward to this — and when Prompto’s fingers touch his opening, slick with lube, he lets out a grunt of pleasure.

‘I’m sorry,’ Prompto says hurriedly. ‘I should’ve warned you.’

‘Nah,’ Gladiolus says, glancing back over his shoulder with a shake of his head. ‘S’good. Keep goin’.’

Prompto nods in acknowledgement. Slowly, gently, he teases around Gladiolus’s hole, then dips a fingertip within. Gladiolus feels the band of muscle there reflexively tense, but once he wraps his grasp around his cock and gives it a few pumps he can feel himself relax in anticipation of Prompto’s touch.

The blond is careful as can be, taking things slowly, pausing to check in with Gladiolus all the while. Truth be told, Gladiolus is so worked up he could probably get off from just this, but he ignores the urge and tilts his hips back a little, pushing his ass into the air to give Prompto a better angle.

‘Ready?’ Prompto asks.

‘Uh huh.’

The toy’s a little cool to the touch as it brushes Gladiolus’s opening. He manages not to flinch away from it, at least, and as he feels Prompto’s hands grips his cheeks, spreading him open, he finds himself throbbing eagerly as he awaits the press of the toy within him.

If they did this more, maybe it’d be quicker work, but Prompto has to take his time as he edges forward. There’s a slight burn, a pressure just bordering on uncomfortable as the strapon eases into Gladiolus’s opening, but before it can become painful Prompto adds a lubed-up finger to the mix, using it to widen him out around the toy.

Prompto stops once he’s in, and Gladiolus gives a little huff of relief. It’s not that it feels bad or anything, just foreign, and with a little time to acclimatise to the sensation it’s starting to feel even better.

‘Tell me when you’re ready,’ Prompto says gently. His hands rove with a gentle touch over Gladiolus’s back, over his ass, over his thighs; they come to rest at Gladiolus’s hips at last, with a reassuring grip.

‘Good to go,’ Gladiolus says.

‘Okay.’

Digging his nails lightly into Gladiolus’s hips, Prompto edges backwards.  _ This _ is worse than going in, Gladiolus finds, and he blows out a breath between his teeth until Prompto stops. Haltingly, carefully, Prompto moves forward once more and the sensation’s enough to have Gladiolus’s dropping his forehead against the pillow below him.

‘You sure you’re okay, big guy?’ Prompto asks, smoothing a hand up Gladiolus’s spine.

Gladiolus lifts his head just enough to huff out a hoarse ‘Yeah’ before he drops it again; after a pause, he feels Prompto’s movements pick up again, a little more fluidly this time.

It takes a while for Prompto to pick up a rhythm that he seems confident with. By the gods, though, it gets easier for Gladiolus with each thrust — and even now that he’s not touching himself any more, he can feel precum leaking freely from his dick, dripping onto the covers, as the rhythm sends wave after wave of pleasure through him.

Gladiolus wishes, as he feels Prompto’s hand slip around to touch him, that he could watch this in the mirror — watch Prompto fucking him, holding him in place by the hip, and  _ Astrals _ the thought of it alone sends a pang of lust through Gladiolus, so intense he gives a choked moan. He knows he could ask Prompto to move so he can watch, but he’s not so sure he wants to stop so he makes a mental note for next time and resolves himself to focusing on  _ now. _

Prompto’s almost tauntingly slow as he touches him, fist gliding all the way up Gladiolus’s length then all the way back down. When he seems to be about to pick up the pace, he moves his hand down to cradle Gladiolus’s balls, fingers teasing against his perineum.

‘Prom, geez,’ Gladiolus groans. ‘You’re killing me here.’

He hears Prompto chuckle, husky with lust.

‘Sorry, Gladdy.’

Prompto’s still conspicuously slow about it as he smooths his hand back up the length of Gladiolus’s erection, but he never stops his steady pace of thrusts and Gladiolus is so intent on the sensation of  _ that _ that he hardly registers the heat of Prompto’s fingers around him once more.

When Prompto squeezes the head, his thumb rolling over the slit, it’s so intense Gladiolus finds himself shivering and twitching, hardly caring if he looks like a fool for it — not like Prompto’d ever mock him for it, anyways, and it feels too damn good to give a shit.

‘That feel good, babe?’ Prompto murmurs, his voice hitching a little. From the sounds of things he’s having a good time, too, even without stimulation to keep him going.

‘Yeah,’ Gladiolus replies, hoarsely. ‘Keep goin’.’

Little by little, Prompto’s thrusts come faster, and each time his hips line up flush with Gladiolus’s ass he can’t help but wonder why they never tried this sooner.

Their skin makes soft slapping sounds each time they come into contact with one another, and in the stillness of the night it’s just this, and Gladiolus’s laboured breathing, and the steady creaking of the bedsprings.

Unlike Prompto, Gladiolus is usually pretty vocal during sex — taunting and teasing and making dirty little jokes even when he’s on the receiving end, but in all of this he can’t bring himself to crack a single wry comment, can hardly  _ think _ as Prompto slides home again and again, one of the blond’s hands pawing greedily at his hip while the other palms almost adoringly over the length of his cock.

When Gladiolus feels the pull of his impending climax, he thinks it’s different than usual; it starts as a distant tug somewhere low within him, and even though Prompto’s touching him comparatively slowly, his orgasm is upon him entirely without warning. He has just enough time to lift his head — the warning he’d been about to give cuts off with a choked, desperate sound — and his vision goes white, his head swimming as he jitters through his peak.

Prompto leaves him like that, riding it out, and once Gladiolus is on the other side he can feel the blond’s hand smoothing gently over his skin, up his spine, hugging around his waist.

‘Gonna pull out now, Gladdy,’ Prompto says softly.

Gladiolus’s voice doesn’t quite come out on its first attempt; gruffly, he clears his throat.

‘Kay.’

He registers a little discomfort as Prompto pulls out — feels Prom’s hand give one last, loving stroke of his cock before it pulls away. Gladiolus can barely do more than drop his face into the pillow, panting into it as the world comes back to him.

Prompto’s touch rouses him after a moment, one hand gently holding his hip while the other cleans him up with wet wipes. Even this tentative contact is a little too much, over-sensitive as Gladiolus suddenly finds himself, but Prompto treats him with the tenderness of a kid nursing a sick bird back to health.

‘Lie down, big guy,’ Prompto murmurs, pushing a strand of hair behind Gladiolus’s ear as he presses a kiss to the lobe.

Gladiolus has just enough energy left in him to do this —  _ just barely —  _ and as he moves to let Prompto pull the covers out of the way, he lazily thinks of the sizeable wet patch that must mar their surface.

‘The blanket,’ he says flatly, as he settles onto his side.

Prompto gives a soft laugh.

‘It’s okay. I’ll grab another one.’

Gladiolus lies and watches Prompto putter about the room, taking a simple pleasure in the sight of his lover moving about doing something as mundane as gathering the toys up and setting them aside, and fetching fresh bed linen. It helps bring him back down to Eos, somewhat, and by the time Prompto lays the new blanket over him Gladiolus is alert enough to gently take the blond’s wrist.

‘C’mere,’ he says. ‘Laundry can wait till morning.’

Wordlessly, Prompto climbs in next to him; his skin’s a little cold so Gladiolus drapes an arm across him, and the blond responds in kind by nestling in close.

‘So,’ Gladiolus murmurs, burying his nose in Prompto’s hair. The familiar smell of his shampoo is faint now, hours after his shower, and mostly he just smells of  _ Prompto. _ ‘What’s the verdict?’

‘Huh?’ Prompto replies. ‘On what?’

Gladiolus chuckles.

‘On your birthday,’ he prompts. ‘Was it everything you could’ve wished for?’

Prompto sighs thoughtfully before falling silent. He’s so quiet, in fact, that with the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, Gladiolus wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was asleep. Eventually, however, the blond turns his face towards Gladiolus’s chest and kisses him somewhere around the approximate location of his heart.

‘It was good,’ he says quietly. ‘I liked it better when it was just the two of us, though.’

A grin cracks Gladiolus’s lips. He’d drink to that if he could; it wasn’t even  _ his _ birthday and he still thinks seeing Prompto come undone is the best gift a guy could get.

‘Me too,’ he agrees.

They lie still for a while, their chests moving in time with one another as their breathing shifts into sync. Gladiolus supposes he could say something poetical about that — about them always being in harmony — but he settles for smoothing his hand down Prompto’s arm.

Prompto shivers under his touch, and once Gladiolus gets to his wrist, intent on lacing his fingers through the blond’s, his thumb instead brushes Prompto’s thigh. This time, Prompto  _ really _ shivers, and with a tug of arousal Gladiolus wonders if they could go for a second round.

Experimentally, he traces his fingertips down over Prompto’s knuckles, down his fingers, and moves onwards to his thigh where his hand rests. Prom’s upper legs are covered in downy hair, like the fuzz of a peach, and as Gladiolus trails his touch up Prompto’s thigh he relishes the softness under the pads of his fingers.

Another shiver goes through Prompto, almost convulsive this time, and when Gladiolus meets the juncture of the blond’s thighs he finds wetness already beading there, so abundant the feel of it makes his cock twitch to life.

‘Huh,’ he remarks, dipping his fingers gently in between Prompto’s folds. ‘Looks like somebody’s ready for more.’

Apparently embarrassed — although Gladiolus can’t think  _ why, _ when seeing Prompto turned on is his favourite thing in the world — Prompto hides his face against Gladiolus’s chest.

‘It was…’ Prompto says, his muffled words tapering off.

Gladiolus waits for him to finish; trails his fingertips lazily upwards through the wetness between Prompto’s thighs.

‘It was…?’ he urges.

He knows it’s a little mean to tease now, when Prompto’s clearly so eager again, but that doesn’t stop him as he takes a long, languorous moment to reach Prompto’s clit before he stops just short and strokes back downward again.

‘It was seeing you like that,’ Prompto finishes. He sounds a little blissed out; he’s trembling, like he’s aching for Gladiolus’s touch. ‘When I used the strapon. You were so…’

Gladiolus’s cock twitches again. He’s pretty sure Prompto can probably feel it by now against him, can probably tell he’s hard again. He doesn’t much care about getting off now, though — not when he’s still sensitive from earlier — so he focuses his efforts on Prompto, pausing only to gently push Prom’s thigh out of the way to make room.

‘I was so…?’ he prompts.

This time, he doesn’t tease; he makes as though he’s going to, slowing the path of his middle finger considerably as it sweeps upwards between Prompto’s lips, but then he brushes over it, light as a feather, and Prompto rewards him with another shiver that winds through his whole body.

‘You were so beautiful, like that,’ Prompto finishes, his voice a needy whine.

It’s not dirty talk — not by anybody’s definition — but still it’s enough to send a throb through Gladiolus’s length.

He’d never call himself beautiful, but Prompto seems convinced enough for the both of them; the blond lifts his head to look at him, and there’s something in his blue eyes that’s as filled with awe as it is lust. 

Gladiolus leans his head down and finds Prompto’s mouth already eagerly waiting to meet his own in a kiss. There’s no tongue this time, only the hot, hurried moving of their lips against each other, and as Gladiolus makes circles with his finger over Prompto’s clit he feels the blond’s breath huff out against him with a soft sound of need.

When they break apart for air, Gladiolus seeks out Prom’s eyes again; holds them there, and watches the minute shifts in expression that come about in response to the touch between his legs.

‘We could do it again sometime…’ Gladiolus suggests idly. ‘If you wanted to.’

Prompto wets his lips and gives a nod. As Gladiolus slips his fingers down to get them slick again and dips one into Prompto’s entrance, the blond’s eyelids flutter shut and he gives a quiet little moan.

‘That’s right, baby,’ Gladiolus murmurs. ‘You’re so good.’

He can feel Prompto’s body responding under his ministrations, his hips twitching, slickness pooling between his legs and trickling down his thighs. It’s so unbelievably sexy, so  _ unbearably _ erotic, and when Prompto’s thigh accidentally brushes his cock where it aches and throbs untouched, it’s enough to provoke a grunt of pleasure from Gladiolus.

Suddenly Prompto’s eyes are open and he’s looking up at Gladiolus expectantly, his cheeks burning with longing.

‘Want you, Gladdy,’ he murmurs.

Gladiolus doesn’t need to ask what he means; he pulls his hand from between Prompto’s thighs and nudges him gently until he’s lying on his back, then clambers between his legs. The head of his cock is still a little raw from overstimulation as he lines up with Prompto’s entrance, but the heat of his lover — the slickness there, and the knowledge that it’s all for  _ him —  _ helps soothe it away.

As he thrusts into Prompto in one swift, liquid movement and Prompto slings his legs around Gladiolus’s middle, it’s like they’ve been doing this all their lives; like their bodies were made to fit together like puzzle pieces.

Even after being fucked by the  _ Infernian, _ Prompto still fits just as tightly around Gladiolus, still contracts around him with each thrust. When Gladiolus moves down to touch Prompto he finds the blond’s hand already moving there and they bump into each other, prompting laughter from both of them.

‘You want me to—’ Gladiolus begins, but Prompto shakes his head.

‘It’s okay,’ Prom says. ‘Your arms are probably tired. I’m kinda… sensitive, anyway.’

Gladiolus snorts.

‘You too, huh?’ he muses. ‘We must be pretty out of condition.’

Prompto grins, sly and adorable all at once.

‘Guess we just gotta do this some more to get back into shape.’

Gladiolus doesn’t have any complaints, but he drags them both back to the moment by bringing his lips to Prompto’s. Between them, he can feel the blond’s hand moving back down, and Gladiolus uses his arms instead to brace himself in a better angle to facilitate his thrusts.

Prompto was right about his arms being tired — they tremble a little from the effort of staying upright, but it’s nothing Gladiolus hasn’t endured at the gym, or at Cor’s stern behest during training. He can tune out the burn of his muscles easily enough as he focuses on Prompto, on the warmth of him, on the press of those toned thighs around his waist.

When he feels Prompto start to tense beneath him, when he pulls his head back to see the blond’s mouth hanging open in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut, he knows Prom’s close. Knows he could drag this little liaison out and make a night of it, but instead he picks up his thrusts and drives again and again into Prompto until he starts making the most beautiful sounds, until the contractions get to be too much and Gladiolus is right there along with him, shouting out as he drives home one last time.

His cock throbs and twitches within Prompto as he blows his load, and Prompto’s pulsing around him, his head thrown back and hips bucking as he pants out desperate, needy little sounds. It’s these sounds that guide Gladiolus through his climax, through the mindlessness that follows, these sounds that bring him home.

When Prompto falls still, he sweeps a hand through his hair — it’s damp with sweat, and there’s a sheen on his forehead as he pushes his bangs away — and looks up at Gladiolus with a bashful smile.

‘Hey,’ Prompto murmurs.

Gladiolus gives a sleepy grin; he lifts his hand to Prompto’s face and touches his thumb to his lover’s lip before deftly chasing it up with a kiss.

It feels like too much effort just to pull out, and the thought of having to get up to try to get even  _ somewhat _ clean is beyond Gladiolus. He manages to slip free, at least, and settles himself at Prompto’s side; thankfully there’s a pack of wet wipes to hand, and Gladiolus lets Prompto rest while he cleans each of them up.

They’re snuggled under the covers with the lights off not ten minutes later, Prompto curled close with Gladiolus’s arm around his middle.

‘I love you, Gladdy,’ Prompto murmurs with a happy sigh.

‘Love you too.’

They’ll have plenty to clean up in the morning — Gladiolus thinks, with a little amusement, that it’s a good thing they’re not at the place Prompto shares with Noct. Aside from all the noise they must have made, he doesn’t think the prince could get over the trauma of seeing such an assortment of toys and knowing  _ precisely _ what his friends had been doing with them.

He pushes thoughts of cleaning up to the back of his mind, and when it seems they won’t go any further he nudges them a little more. It’s not difficult to forget about mundane things like  _ chores _ with Prompto’s in his arms, warm and content.

‘Happy birthday, baby,’ Gladiolus says.

There’s no answer; only the soft, steady sound of Prompto’s snores.

**Author's Note:**

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